


the earth splits open beneath my feet

by buunbi



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Referenced Manipulation, Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Thoughts, post final disc war, really have no idea how to tag this i’m sorry jhsbjd, rn i’m just writing for the sake of writing, this doesn’t have much of a plot yet but it might grow one eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buunbi/pseuds/buunbi
Summary: Tommy starts writing a journal
Relationships: Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	the earth splits open beneath my feet

**Author's Note:**

> okay hiii this is a bit out of my wheelhouse when it comes to fanfics but i got the idea for it and i didn’t wanna let it escape me just because i’ve been having so much trouble writing lately jhvsjgd  
> uuuh sorry if someone has already done this idea? i haven’t actually read any fics for this fandom so i have no clue what has and hasn’t been done  
> but yeah i’m just kinda writing this for the sake of writing so don’t expect it to be amazing, though i am kinda proud of this first chapter lol idk i’m an artist not a writer (follow my mcyt acc on twitter it’s @BUNB0YHAL0)

It was never quite clear when Tommy was going to have a Bad Day. When he felt like he had to stay holed up in his home barely speaking to anyone, when he had nightmares of explosions and Christmas Trees and smiling faces.

He hated himself every time he ignored his friends or told them to go away. This was what he wanted, right? People caring for him, reaching out to him. It all just felt so... empty. They didn’t care then, why would they care now? Every word shouted through his front door sounded like an echo of everything he needed to hear.

Logically speaking, he knew this was Dreams fault. He knew Dream had turned the server against him and prevented Ghostbur from handing out the beach party invitations. Logic wasn’t helping him much.

Sam was helping him, though. Giving him things to do on the Good Days when he managed to get outside and interact with the world. Weeding, collecting supplies, handing out fliers, all things that kept him grounded and distracted from his thoughts. Sam felt like the kind of friend Dream could never hope to be.

Today was a Bad Day. Yesterday the Big Innit Hotel was finally finished, and Tommy had hoped he could ride that high for at least a week. He still felt... happy, in a way. It was just hard to really _feel_ it. It was like happiness through frosted glass.

He heard a knock on his door. He rolled over to ignore it. He heard it open anyway.

“Tommy?” Sam’s voice drifted in through the doorway. Tommy stayed silent. He didn’t want Sam to know he was in this state right after such a big day. He wanted to be having a Good Day when he gave Sam his review of the hotel. The door closed, and for a second Tommy relaxed thinking Sam had left. Then the edge of his bed dipped down, causing him to jolt in surprise. Damn creeper.

“Tommy? Are you okay?” the genuine concern in Sam’s voice just added to Tommy’s guilt. Tommy tugged his blanket further over his head without saying a word. Sam sighed but didn’t leave.

They both stayed silent for a few moments, the only sound Sam’s filtered breath through the gas mask he always wore.

“I like the hotel.” Tommy finally managed to mumble out. He felt the bed shift slightly.

“I’m glad! Sam Nook worked very hard on it, he was excited for you to see it.”

That got Tommy to let out a small laugh. He knew ‘Sam Nook’ was just Sam playing a character for him. Swapping his black mask to a brown one and putting on a pair of animal ears didn’t make him a different person, it just made him a furry.

“Yeah, well... tell him I think it’s, uh, pogchamp.”

“I will,” Sam paused for a few seconds, “do you want to come outside today?”

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut. “No.”

“You don’t have to go far. I was just thinking you might feel better if you got out of bed, at least. You can chill out in the hotel for a bit. Nobody else is gonna be there.”

That... didn’t sound too bad, really. If he went to one of the upper floors especially he could be alone, but alone with a nice view. He slid the blanket down and looked up at Sam. Sam looked at him, expression hidden by the dark glass covering his eyes. It felt expectant, but without the kind of pressure he’d be put under by anyone else.

“... Yeah, okay.”

* * *

Tommy sat in the penthouse of the hotel, his blanket from home wrapped around his shoulders and an empty book and quill in front of him. Sam had given him another task; write a journal. Write down how he felt, everything that happened in exile, whatever he wanted. Nobody had to read it, it was just to get it out into the universe so it wasn’t stuffed up inside him.

He had been staring at the blank paper for ten minutes. Where was he supposed to start? His mind was full of static. He absently scratched at the bandages on his hand as he tried to think.

Maybe it would help if he wrote to someone? Not for them to ever see, of course. The only question left was, who? Ranboo felt like an odd choice, as did Phil and Techno. Tubbo... he was on the ‘maybe’ list. Dream? Definitely not, that would require thinking about the green bastard far more than he already did.

... Wilbur?

He picked up the quill. Wilbur... they’d spoken after Dream was imprisoned, but he still had so much left to say. Things he wasn’t even sure he could say when his brother _did_ properly return. He was as good a candidate as any. Tommy pressed the quill to the paper.

* * *

_Hi, Wilbur._

_A lot has happened since you ~~died~~ left. I was put into exile for a while, L’manburg was completely destroyed (again, no coming back from it this time though), I think everyone except Sam, Ranboo (you haven’t met him) and Tubbo hates me now. There’s some fucking egg thing that’s taking over the server, not sure what’s going on with that honestly. It made Tubbo cry so I know it’s a wrongun._

_I guess a good place to start explaining everything would be my exile. I griefed George’s house a bit and Dream got all pissy about it, so he made Tubbo throw me out of L’Manburg. Then Dream threw me out of the SMP and I had to live really far away from everyone. It was lonely, except when ~~you~~ Ghostbur was there, and Dream visited me every day._

_~~Dream’s my best friend now, y’know.~~ I fucking hate Dream. He made me feel like absolute shit. Still, he was the only person who stuck around me and he gave me stuff sometimes, even if he did just blow it up the next day. Not sure what to think of him. Everyone else thinks he’s a bad guy, and so do I, so I don’t know why I feel so complicated about him._

_He made me want to die, Will. He was the only person I saw every day for months, and I wanted to die because of it. I missed Tubbo. Ranboo and I exchanged letters sometimes but they kept going missing so it was very hard. I felt so completely and utterly alone. I still do._

_Sam helps, I know he cares because he actually visited me. I think that means that Dream cares too, so I don’t know why being near him feels so much worse than being near Sam, or even Techno._

_Techno let me live with him for a while after I escaped exile, it was pretty cool until he sided with Dream. I don’t know why he did that after protecting me from him for so long. Does that make Techno a bad guy, or Dream a good guy? You’d be a lot better at figuring this out than I am, I think._

_Sam’s calling because he has food for me, I’m going to go now but I’ll write again later._

_\- TommyInnit, aka Big Man, aka Big T_

* * *

“Did you write anything in that journal yet, Tommy?” Sam asked in between bites of the chicken he’d cooked for them. It was one of the rare times he was without his mask. Nobody really knew why he wore it in the first place, he clearly didn’t need it.

“Yeah. If you say you wanna look at it I’ll stab you with a chicken bone.” Tommy waved a snapped bone menacingly in front of Sam's face.

“Heh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

“Did it... help?” Sams expression was unreadable. Tommy frowned.

“How’s writing in a book one time supposed to help?”

“Well, you seem like you’re in a far better mood than you were this morning.”

Tommy paused mid-bite. His ‘letter’ had really just been him writing down his rambling train of thought, but he did feel almost lighter in a way. He knew it wouldn’t help a lot for very long, nothing ever really did, and he still wasn’t as upbeat as he was on a Good Day, but it was better than nothing.

“Yeah, I think I do feel a bit better. Thank you for that idea, Sam.”

“Glad I could help.”

**Author's Note:**

> i’m nervous to post this but hopefully it doesn’t suck 👍 hope u enjoyed feel free 2 give feedback if u want idk love u


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